


Reticent

by halfpasthealy



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), 5SOS
Genre: Bottom Ashton, Dom Luke, Everyone Is Gay, Flower Crowns, Insecure Ashton, M/M, Michael Clifford/Calum Hood - Freeform, Michael kind of has a thing for Ashton, Not my very first, Protective Michael, Punk Luke, Shy Ashton, Slow Updates, Sub Ashton, This is kind of my first story, This story sucks ass, Top Luke, luke hemmings/ashton irwin - Freeform, no heterosexual though, well not exactly, yes there will be smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 08:36:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3404078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfpasthealy/pseuds/halfpasthealy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ret·i·cent<br/>ˈredəsənt/<br/>adjective<br/>not revealing one's thoughts or feelings readily.<br/>synonyms: reserved, withdrawn, introverted, inhibited, diffident</p><p>or</p><p>the one where Ashton is a timid boy and Luke introduces him to a world with more fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reticent

**Author's Note:**

> After an eternity of being busy with developing a life, I'm back!  
> I deleted the past work of this story because I couldn't stand it - I apologize to those who liked it. The old story didn't seem appealing to me, so I decided to change it a bit. Unfortunately, I am still very busy, so I'm not sure how I'll find the time to make it into an actual story, but I do have the first chapter. As always, it is rough and vague at first, but I feel like this new, edited work of Reticent will be better. The chapters will be different, but the characters will behave the same.
> 
> Like said before, the ages are different (for personal preference): Ashton and Calum will both be sixteen year old sophomores and Michael (seventeen) and Luke (eighteen) will be seniors. . . totally flipped.
> 
> Enjoy ♡

Ashton Irwin is a shy boy.

He does not suffer the wrath of social anxiety, but interacting with others isn’t necessarily a piece of cake. His hazel eyes hide beneath his golden curls and when he lacks the company of Michael or Calum, the floor is suddenly his best friend. He often chokes on his words, almost unsure of what he’s trying to say, and picks at his nails like crazy, constantly trying to ease the tension when he’s struggling to exist.  
Ashton Irwin is intelligent, benign, and. . . uninformed. 

“Michael,” the young boy whispers, swinging their hands in the dark of night. 

He repeatedly squeezes the pale fingers intertwined with his and glances at his green-haired partner in crime. Somehow, in the chilliness of late September, Michael’s hands are soft, warm, and welcoming. His lips are smooth when they brush Ashton’s cheek for departure and his presence never fails to ensure safety. 

“Yes?”

“What is a. . . rimjob?”

In a normal setting, where the two wouldn’t be in an eerie area past Ashton’s curfew, Michael would spit out his coffee and laugh until his breath was hard to grasp. He would pat little Ash’s head, sigh, and tell him that it’s nothing worth knowing. Time would pass, they would go their separate ways for the day, and his innocent friend would eventually shrug it off. Just before bed, Michael would think about how a such a dirty term fell from Ashton’s virgin mouth and shake his head endlessly. He’d read, he’d watch TV, he’d do anything to scrape it from his mind, but the memory would shamelessly stain his sheets at some point. . .  
“Where’d you hear that?”

“Chemistry. . . Some kids -”

“In the back, I assume,” Michael interrupts, trying his best to look forward and not at the pure boy at his side.

“Yes!”

“Ash. . . Take notes on the subject, not the sexual animals behind you,” Michael says, sighing soon after. “In all honesty, they probably aren’t the best people to observe anyway. . . Not a lot of people in this area are.”

“This area? As in. . . the town? I don’t understand what you mean.”

Michael contemplates telling Ashton the truth, but knowing that it would only keep him awake at night and paranoid about the locks on his doors, he decides to keep it simple. “You just can’t trust everyone,” Michael mumbled.

“About rimjobs? For rimjobs?”

“Ashton, no!” 

The younger comes to a halt at the flickering street lamp. He pulls his hand from Michael’s and crosses his arms in frustration, popping his hip out to embrace his suddenly impudent attitude. “Can you just tell me what it is?”

“Can you just tell me why you want to know so bad? You never told me that you had a sexual relationship with someone. . .” 

Ashton shakes his head immediately and turns away, too irritated to look his friend in the eyes. “Look, I’m sixteen and know almost nothing. I’m aware that you think I’m sort of baby who must be shielded from the “mature” details of humanity, but I’m not. Sex Ed didn’t teach me anything. I feel silly and childish-”

“Knowing every sexual term on Urban Dictionary is not the key to growing up, Ashton.”

“Overall, knowledge is key and I’m lacking it. If you won’t tell me, nobody will. I am not looking that up on my laptop.”

Michael chuckles, turns Ashton around, and puts his hands on the boy’s small shoulders. He thinks that making it as awkward as possible might be the only way that pops a cork in Ashton’s mouth, but the boy is so legitimately curious that Michael’s intention might not do anything. “A rimjob refers to an oral act that would sexually arouse you.”

“So what’s with the rim part?” Ashton asks, squinting in confusion.

“You know what oral is? My baby. . . How do you know such naughty things?”

The younger rolls his eyes and attempts to walk away, but Michael makes his grip a little tighter to keep him from leaving. Ashton pouts and looks back up at him, pools of hazel drilling into Michael’s greens, almost making the older forget what they were discussing. They stand there for a moment, crushing bits of gravel with their feet. There’s a part of Michael that knows that educating Ashton shouldn’t be a big deal. Sex is a topic that he’s never covered with his mother, and with his friends only consisting of Michael (who acts like his father) and Calum (who acts similar to him), sex never comes up. It’s always been obvious that it wasn’t a big deal to Ashton, for he views other things to be more important than something so hormonally driven. But, there’s a part of Ashton that is frustrated because he’s surrounded by kids who speak a foreign language. 

When he was the new male student, who leaned more towards the feminine side, he recognized the word queer, but not ‘blowjob’. He shyly walked down the hallway, not knowing that he was being sexually harassed. 

“You know those lips are dick sucking lips.”

“Blowjob Beauty.” 

“Bj Queen.” 

Ashton often chuckled at that. He was a beauty, he was a queen, how nice? He blushed when he told Michael. “They think I’m pretty,” he mumbled, smiling a little. Going to a new school wasn’t all that bad.  
Knowledge is key, honey haired boy. 

Michael sighs, wondering why he, out of all people, was given this job. “Your. . . uh. . . your hole. It refers to the area of your hold. Are you satisfied now? It’s very late.”

Ashton blushes, heat rushing to his face. He chuckles out of embarrassment, but eventually looks past his friend and knits his eyebrows together. “Does that feel good?”

Michael smirks, “I don’t personally know, but it probably depends on whether or not they have a nice tongue. . .” He winks and sticks his out for the boy, successfully disturbing him in the process. “Now, can we head home? Your mom is going to kill both of us for your late arrival.”

Ashton nods and continues walking home with his friend, hand in hand, being shushed by Michael the whole way. 

“One question is enough.” 

☾ ☾ ☾

When Ashton is home, he’s surrounded by warmth and sweet smells.

Before joining his mom, he hangs his jacket on the coat rack and slips off his shoes. The floor feels slippery, cleaner than he’s ever seen it. Inside the kitchen, she is scrubbing dishes, listening to older music from the stereo. 

“Cookies, spotless floors, vanilla scented candles. . . What’s all of this for, Mum? Do we have someone visiting?” Ashton asks, kissing his mother on the cheek.

“Gotta do something to keep my mind off of the fact that you’re out. . . an hour past curfew.”

The boy frowns as he grabs the rinsed dishes and begins to dry them with a towel. “I’m sorry, Mum. The movie took longer than I thought.”

“Why didn’t you two ride in a car, where it’s safe, warm, and fast?”

“I don’t know,” Ashton mumbled, shrugging. “I just wanted to walk. It’s not that far.”

For a moment, there’s an awkward silence between him and his mother. Ashton pushes through it and continues to dry the dishes, despite not understanding why the air is polluted with tension. By her face, he can tell that she is tired, or stressed, or both, but he doesn’t know why.

“Is there some sort of elephant in the room?”

She stops washing and stands there, as if she’s not certain, but then smiles and shakes her head. “No, just. . . please don’t be late next time. Go shower, it’s getting late.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help you with the rest of the dishes?”

After a reassuring nod, Ashton puts the towel on the counter and heads towards the stairs. 

When he reached his room, he opened the doors to his closet and scanned the small area for his favorite fuzzy pajamas. The grey space was outlined in white fairy lights and decorated with painted flowers. Ashton wasn’t particularly an artist, but he tried his hardest before putting something permanent on his walls. He spent hours tracing flowers, drawing them in notebooks, and painting on paper before trusting his hands in his closet. If it was that disgusting, he’d cover them up with a pile of shoes or something, but luckily, there was no need. 

Aftering looking for a bit, Ashton’s hands come across the soft, blue fabric and he makes his way towards the shower.

Before the bathroom mirror, alone, Ashton remains shy. His bashful personality is consistent as he discards his clothes, almost as if someone is watching, but the door is closed, locked. . . For the most part, he doesn’t have an issue with his appearance - his tan, small, and slender body. But, there is also a tiny, hidden side of him that doesn’t feel anywhere near comfortable. 

After a few minutes of meticulously washing his hair, Ashton begins to rub his skin, causing milk and honey scents to swarm around his nose. He’s bending over, scrubbing down his body, when the water seems to feel annoyingly warm. Ignoring how his old shower has a mind of its own, he continues to clean thoroughly, rubbing the soapy cloth in between his toes. His water-heavy curls fall over his eyes as he moves on to his other foot, washing one piggy after another. As he moves on from his left foot, the water continues to increase in temperature, approaching hot. Although Ashton hasn’t taken anything but a cold shower in months, he deals with it. The only thing left is his other foot and -

“God!” 

Before Ashton can rinse off his body, his skin is hot. . . almost burning. He is terrified, quickly touching his back, tracing the lines on his skin. Panicked, he squeezes his eyes shut, only seeing black, the outline of the trees. His vision is invaded by long, itchy grass, lit by the moon; it irritates the skin at his ankles. His shirt is left behind on his bed, but he doesn’t think twice about his nude upper half. All he can think about is the voice calling out to him, inviting him deeper into the woods. 

It’s his father.  
He needs him.  
He needs Ashton. 

The boy repeatedly shakes his head as he yelps and stands up quickly, turning around and pressing his sizzling back against the tile of the shower. His lungs feel slow and heavy when he’s gasping for air, pushing through the stinging pain on his skin. Nervously, he reaches around the direction of the showerhead to adjust the water to freezing cold, hoping that it’ll cool down the abnormally high temperature. After waiting for a second, he hesitantly leans into the water, dying to rinse off and get out.

But it still burns.  
It burns really bad.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd rather not read on AO3, you can find me on Wattpad under the same username.   
> As always, feedback is appreciated.
> 
> Much love xxx !


End file.
